


Wherever you go, you'll be there

by Screwyy



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Coping, Coping Mechanisms, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, I have an idea for whats in the chest just wait and see, Mommy Issues, Nightmares, Therapy, This is just my "SU ended and now I am empty inside so have a continuation, Trauma, category may also be subject to change, ocs i guess but only to serve the story, steven gets therpy, steven learns to live, tags to be added as story progresses so watch out for those, warnings may be subject to change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25727752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Screwyy/pseuds/Screwyy
Summary: Steven's journey into the unknown, into who he is, and how to learn to live again,with a spice of nightmares, feelings and a lot of travelling, learning from his mistakes and from people he meets.Who will he find in himself at the end?ORSteven's roadtrip and, as a seperate act, his path to betterment.(Continuation post I Am My Monster but before the final episode, Future.)
Relationships: Connie Maheswaran & Steven Universe
Comments: 16
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

He plummets. Loosing the ground under his feet, feeling the loss of pressure in a rush of cold and terror. He doesn’t remember landing on the ground, but he’s up. Something is there.

He turns around to see a creature, spider legs and massive fangs and the body of a snake, eyes black with pink irises, glowing. Fixating him.

He runs, feeling clumsy and heavy and weak, not fast enough, pushing against a force trying to stop him, trying to hold him back. He pants, the air burning in his lungs, forcing his limbs to move while fear tries to paralyze him to stop.

The creature is fast, faster than him. He runs, still, even though it’s pointless. Faster. Faster. He’s not fast enough. He’s too weak, too slow, too clumsy, nonono-!

He trips on the darkness. The fangs rise, and with a start, come down on his naval.

He jolts upright with a start, breathing, panting heavily. One hand over his gem and the other clutching his chest, he heaves in the air, staring at the blanket in front of him until he calms down a bit.

He glances over at his clock. 4:15 AM. Another nightmare.

He lets out a huge breath and falls backwards onto the bed. It’s comfortable, but that doesn’t stop him from looking to stare at the ceiling through sore eyes, opening them just a bit. Keeping them open is hard, but something desperately keeps him from closing them.

The ocean waves quietly crash onto the beach. A rough breeze presses onto the face of the house facing the water, making it creak ever so quietly. It was a familiar sound, one he grew up with. He breathes in, and heaves the breath back out as if he’d run a marathon.

Familiar. The sound of the water fills his ears like static white noise, threatening to make him forget what his nightmare was about in the first place. Does he even want to remember? Maybe he should just let go, and fall back into habit. His mind is blank, and he starts moving on his own.

He shuts off his alarm. No need for that anymore. He takes the steps down quietly, making sure to pace his steps just right to avoid the steps from creaking. From the room, to the ocean, to the creaking, to the hushed way he moves between the furniture; It’s like moving from one island to another, one concept connected to the next, each action familiar. Nothing he can mess up here if he does what he’s always done.

Mechanically, he starts making himself a protein shake. Connie’s been telling him to get better breakfast, but he feels too tired to do anything else. Well, he doesn’t have to tell her. He looks out to the sky through the large glass windows where the stars peacefully await the break of dawn. He feels tired, worn out and at the same time like a cold stone statue that has nothing better to do.

What’s the point, anyway? His shake finishes fizzling, and he screws the lid closed, starting to shake the plastic bottle. The sound echoes through the room in a surreal manner, making him question if he really is awake all of a sudden. He blinks the thought away. No, he’s sure he’s awake. Just tired.

He sits alone at the table and sips the tasteless protein shake, feeling the powder on his tongue. The stars look back. An eerie quiet hangs in the room, and a small flash of white light at the edge of his vision makes Steven blink. He feels himself sunk into the chair, shoulders hunched. Nothing. The room is empty. He’s alone, accompanied only by the crashing of waves, his sore eyes and the disgusting taste of the protein shake.

How sad this is, he thinks. Steven Universe the savior, sitting in his living room at 4 AM, sipping a drink he hates while waiting for morning to come. 

Suddenly he sees the bright light again. A butterfly. He stops in his movements, and forces himself to breathe. He’s hallucinating. The butterfly lands on one of the chairbacks calmly, waving it’s wings at him. He stares at it, and it flutters off, dissapearing by flying through the closed windows and turning into one of the distant stars.

He stares after it for another moment, blinking, trying to see if he sees any more of them. Nothing. Moments, minutes pass before he calms down, picking the bottle up again to continue what he was doing like nothing happened.

He sighs, placing the plastic bottle down and staring into the mix of liquid. He feels sick. He looks over the fridge to think of getting something else, and sees the small glowing bracelet that he’d stuck to the side of the fridge not too long ago. 

His thoughts wander, from the bracelet to Connie to the hospital. Connie was with him in that underwater bubble he’d made. He didn’t remember everything, but he felt it was his fault, anyway. But humans don’t swell up when they feel bad, at least not like he does. Was Connie okay, though? Did she ever live past that? Did she speak to her mother about it? Did she get therapy?

Maybe he should have known about that, too. Shouldn’t he have been the one to bring her to her mother, or to some hospital or therapist after all that? He feels if maybe, he had payed better attention, he could have helped her better. Helped her the way she’s helping him now, to somehow make up for all the senseless trouble she has to go through.

He grips the plastic bottle tighter, feeling his shoulders hunch up. If he’d just left her out of all this. If he’d just been smarter, been… better. If he’d just been kinder, like- like she was. Rose.

No matter how he looks at her, the childhood dream of the perfect light holding everyone together, inspiring everyone, taking care of everyone still sits somewhere in his mind. A distant vision of that pale pink and white color, but, she wanted him here. ...right?

Did she really? He looks out to the stars. If she could see him right now, what would she think?

He feels pain sting his chest. The sore spot isn’t made better by the pathetic sight he feels he must be right now, sitting alone in the dark, reminiscing about everything that’s happened so long ago.

But it feels so real. It feels so present. It feels just like yesterday. It feels like there was something to live by and live for then, and now there’s nothing. A blankness of the present and the future. Something that almost makes him wish he could go back, back to when everything made sense.

He places his elbows on the table, shoving the drink aside. Some of the liquid splashes over onto the table, and he feels as if he’d been kicked in the gut. Great going, Universe. Can’t even keep the kitchen clean for five minutes. He buries his face in his hands.

The silence, the cold tugging at his bare arms, making him feel weak and fragile, the fact that nobody was going to come here in the next five hours at least were rising, building up in his throat. That’s what hurt, really. Nobody is going to come here anytime soon. He stares at one of the walls, and suddenly he feels tiny. Helpless. Stuck, waiting for that stupid warp pad to glow and tell him someone would still care if he’d dissapear.

But right now nobody does. He sobs, shoulders hunching further, hands pressed to his face. The silence continues to stand in the room and watch him. He sobs, the same way he did just a week ago after he’d turned back to normal. In that freeing, loud way that he’d never allowed himself to do before that moment. 

He wants to feel better. He desperately wants to feel something else, even if it means crying loudly and ugly, and if somebody were to see him they’d feel pity and they’d probably be right to feel sorry for the teenager sitting alone in the dark and breaking down over nothing.

He cries, until the soft morning sun starts to peak over the horizon and send light his way, letting the stars fade back into the ethereal space they came from. And when the house was filled with light and birds started to bring bright chirps into the atmosphere, he sat there still, shoulders hunched over and eyes red and puffy. 

He stood up, at some point, fingers and toes cold, pouring the rest of his shake down the sink and tossing the bottle onto the counter. The plastic clunked against the stone surface in protest, and bounced down to the floor and onto the wood planks, but he’d already started walking towards the stairs. He shoves his hands into his pockets. He has to go get his face washed, before the gems come in.

\---

Soft, October sun warms this side of the beach. Connie sits next to him, sipping a milkshake, eyes focused intently on the task trying to get the last few drops out of the plastic cup. Steven sits with his shoulders hunched over, his drink half full, listening to the shake give gurgles of protest. She looks up to him and they both snort, looking away again.

The ocean waves roll onto the beach. Steven’s smile fades, unsure what to say or think. He looks out to the horizon, watches the light glitter on the surface of the water. Everything is like it was before. Except him. 

He feels like a sore thumb, out of place as he forces a smile back at Connie, who said something about the bakery that he didn’t quite catch. He feels hollow, like something is missing from his chest. He gulps. He spent the morning in bed, tightly hugging his blankets like they could replace someone else. It didn’t help.

Connie says his name, and he turns back to her. She gives him a questioning look, but he just shrugs. 

“Jus’ tired,” he murmurs. 

“You sure?”

He shrugs again, not knowing what to respond with. The ocean waves keep crashing into the beach. Connie puts the plastic cup down next to her. They sit in silence. 

“Well… I’ll come visit next week, maybe.”

“I thought you could only do once every two weeks?”

“I know, I know. But maybe I can shift tutoring to earlier in the morning.”

“Connie...” His voice is tired, doing his best to sound hopeful, to sound stable. “You don’t have to do that. You told me, once every two weeks, and I don’t want you to go back on that.” His voice grows quiet, hoarse. “...and make yourself miserable.”

“I won’t, I…” She trails off, her smile fading. “It’s a lot, but I’m sure I can do it.”

He shakes his head. “It’s okay.”

She sits with her arms stemmed on the bench, and one hand goes to hold her elbow. Sitting cross-legged, her top foot bounces up and down unsurely. Steven lets his glance wander back to the ocean, to the constant crash of the waves.

He closes his eyes, the salty scent of the ocean filling his senses. He’s just a burden here, again. But he knows that as long as he’s here, she’s going to be worried, and she’s going to keep visiting because he doesn’t know how to feel okay anymore.

He opens his eyes, looking to the horizon. “Once every two weeks will be fine, Connie. Don’t forget about yourself, okay?”

She opens her mouth, wants to say something, knows that there’s more to it than just this, knows that something is off because he won’t even look at her. 

But she doesn’t know what to say. She looks down onto her knees, her smile fading too. “Okay.”

He wants to fix this, this horrible silence settling between them. He doesn’t know if he can. At the same time, his longing look into the distance makes him wish he was anywhere else, anywhere but here, having to sit out this silence, having to do things different with no way to tell what’s right and what’s wrong.

His hands clench into fists, but he doesn’t know what he’s doing. It just hurts. His shoulders hunch more.

Connie watches him, not knowing what to do. Maybe her mother would know. Maybe there’s nothing she can do.

As the waves crash, the seagulls call and the clouds pass, they both watch the sun set in silence. 

\---

Empty.

He walks around the house, up the stairs to his room, down to the kitchen. Empty. Like he’s missing something, and he has no idea what it is.

He plops down onto the couch eventually, groaning in frustration. Maybe it’s too quiet. Or he’s just lonely. Or futureless, or feeling guilty, or any other of the dozen reasons he can think of.

Sighing, he gets up to pace back and forth a few steps. He should probably do something, but nothing useful or particularly healing comes to mind. He stops and closes his eyes. If he were anywhere else, anywhere but here in this empty house trying to pick up the broken pieces of his life, it would be easier.

He looks out to the window, out beyond the horizon. He found his mind wandering more often, away from the million things he needs to fix and take care of or remember not to fix and not to take care of, all on top of changing his habits and whatever else he feels he still needs to do. 

If he were anyone else, anywhere else, if he had to deal with anybody’s problems other than his own. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? He has to deal with his own. He has to change, and abandon old habits. Just without actually helping anybody less.

The warp pad goes off. He jumps up, smile on his face, hands moving to do something, pretend to have been doing the dishes, anything to make it look like he had been involved in something useful. Pearl steps off the warp pad, humming something. She has a rusted old sword with her, but she’s holding it as if it’s made of gold.

The gears in his head start to turn and fall into place. That must be from the battlefield. That’s good. His eyes go over her, taking in both relaxedness and happiness and the faint smile of nostalgia on Pearl’s features. That’s also a good sign.

“Hey, Pearl. Is that from the battlefield?”

“Oh, Steven! Yes, I decided, well, I finally had it in me to bring it back.” She eyes the sword in her nimble fingers before shifting her focus. “But how have you been holding up, Steven?”

Finally had it in her? What was stopping her before? He doesn’t recognize the sword. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” Was it a memory he hadn’t heard of yet? About his mother, or about some other gem? Was now the right time to ask? “Who’s sword is it?” He hopes present tense is right.

“This old thing? Oh, Bismuth made it for me thousands of years ago. It was the first thing that was ever truly mine.” She sighs, a distant sadness in her voice. “I lost it during a battle with quartz guards where the delta kindergarden was supposed to go.”

Right, that made sense. Steven can imagine what it must have felt like, loosing the first thing she owned during a fight after she swore to protect Rose and went after her new purpose. She must’ve felt like she failed.

“Well, there’s no delta kindergarden, so looks like you guys still won, right?”

A cheerfulness comes to her features and she smiles, an excitement in her voice that Steven rarely got to see. “We did! We beat those quartz guards right back to the warp pad in the end.” She held the sword into the air proudly.

Steven’s heart swells with warmth at seeing her so expressive, so much louder and prouder than usual.

Pearl’s gem gives a hum, and she stops for a moment to pull her phone out of her gem. “Oh! I’ll be late to my weaponry class.” She starts to head for the door, putting the sword away in her gem.

Before the door closes, she stops and looks back. “Steven?”

“Yeah?”

“I know I say this often, but, you can always talk to us, okay?”

Right. It hadn’t been long enough for the gems to forget about what happened.

He looks down into the sink. “I know. Thanks, Pearl.”

His smile fades as the door closes shut and he sighs.

He groans into his hands. Old habits die hard. How is he ever going to do that any differently? What could he have even done? If he told her about how his day and last night had gone, she wouldn’t have opened up about the sword. It’s not like she could fix any of it.

As the silence drags on, so does the emptiness, and so does the hollow feeling in his chest. 

\---

Lars and the off-colors are due to visit today. 

Steven steps out of the shower, feeling refreshed after spending far too long at home and in the same clothes. He puts on the same shirt, his trusty jacket, and walks to the warp pad.

He stops right before it, contemplating. He checks the time. He’ll be too early, and he doesn’t want to come off as desperate. Not like last time. He cringes a little and goes outside to take the car.

Besides that, the alone time in the car seemed to do him good. Or maybe it was the distraction of driving, or the distant memory of car rides with his father, the endless landscape passing by the windows as the road gently rocked him to sleep as a kid.

The road there felt too short for the car, but at least he wasn’t too early. The small spaceport of LH had to reserve quite the area for Lars’ ship to land, and a handful of gems were already waiting. So he won’t be the only one. Good.

He saw Larimar, Snowflake Obsidian and one of the jaspers from funland that he hadn’t properly met yet.

They turn to him when he approaches, all excited smiles and shy glances, and he smiles back and greets them, remembers to ask Snowflake how the trip to the siberian research station went and gets the nickname of the jasper, Lacely.

A faint humm turns their attention upwards, a familiar ship entering the atmosphere, gently parting the clouds and touching down in front of them.

Steven wanted to rush in, but remembered to wait a moment to let Lars and his crew step out and be embraced by the other gems around him first. He spots Larimar and Padparadsha getting along better than he thought. Snowflake gives Rhodonite a playful shoulder punch, who returns it, making Snowflake pretend to be knocked over as they laugh. Only Lacely seems to stand somewhat lost, watching everything go down with wide eyes. Steven humms, ready to swoop in. He had a suspicion of what was going on.

“Hey, Lacely, have you met the off-colors yet?”

The gem stood shyly, her eyes covered and stance stiff. “Uh. Kindof.”

“How about I introduce you?”

Steven approaches Lars and Fluorite with the jasper, introducing them, watching the jasper blush as Fluorite compliments her hairstyle. Fluorite and Lacely go off to join Rhodonite as Fluorite insists on introducing them too, leaving Steven alone next to Lars.

Lars crosses his arms in front of his chest, looking down to the younger teenager. “Missed us?”

Steven shrugs a bit, trying to play it off and not look too emotional. “Yeah.”

Lars goes on, a bit more serious. “We heard about what happened.”

“Oh… yeah…” Steven’s mood drops, chewing the inside of his cheek briefly into the silence before he quickly goes on. “But it’s fine! Everything’s better now! Besides, your space adventures are bound to be much more interesting.”

Lars laughs, ruffling through Steven’s hair brotherly. “You’re still good ol’ Steven, huh? Always going on about everyone but you.”

“Hey!” Steven laughs as he moves his head away to get Lars’ hand out of his locks. “Just saying. Things have been as usual. Nothing special.”

The two almost-humans watch the other gems cluster together, standing side by side in silence for a moment. Steven glances over to see Lars smiling, happy to be home, happy to see his gem family getting along with others so well, happy to see them surrounded by people who appreciate them fully.

Lars isn’t one to draw in closely to social gatherings. What a contrast to what Steven had come to know at first, when all Lars seemed to care about was being friends with the cool kids, so that he could matter, so that he could feel like he belonged somewhere. And now that he knows where he belongs, he can contently lean against the ship with his hands in his jeans and smile into the october sun.

Steven’s smile falters a little as he looks over to the cluster of gems. He’s happy that his own close family has that too, of course he is. Pearl, Garnet and Amethyst becoming teachers all in their own way, helping gems find their new purposes, their new lives. Helping them in all the ways they wish someone would’ve helped them when they’d first arrived on earth. 

So Steven should be happy, right?

Everyone says he needs to change. Lars changed, and from Steven’s perspective, it all made sense. He changed for the better, with each step he took and choice he made, moving towards something brighter. But Steven doesn’t know how he would change. He does everything to make the people around him happy, and sometimes it’s just not good enough and leaves him feeling empty.

He glances over to Lars again, and then to the gems. How it must feel, to just be, to laugh and be yourself and nothing else, and fit in with others like puzzle pieces. To be ones self with no visible limits or edges that need to be trimmed. To just breathe and live and make the people around you happy by just... _existing_.

Something in his chest does swell happily, although not entirely enough to fix the hollow feeling. They’re all so happy, so unique, so… themselves. The paths they went, the choices they made lead them here, to this place, to this happiness, this new family.

He sighs, and Lars looks over to him. “What’s up?”

“It’s just, they’re all so happy, and, “ he takes a small break not to sound too emotional, “and great, you know? They came so far. _You_ came so far.”

Lars gives a nervous laugh. “Steven, you sappy kid. You came pretty far too, y’know.”

Steven gives a small laugh, a smile, not letting the slightly sinking feeling in his stomach show. He turns back to the happy gathering and ignores the feeling.

The hollow feeling in his chest expands. He wants to be there. Closer, there, amidst the smiles and comments and jokes and gestures and happy eyes. Closer, so the feeling would be easier to ignore, so he could be easier drowned out by people much better adjusted than him.

But it feels clingy. They seem fine without him. He could ruin it. With the way he always used to be he can insert himself, or insert someone else, but he’s supposed to change. What if he changes and they all finally realize they’re better than him? If he could just exist and fit, he feels like he would have done that already.

“So Steven.” Lars looks down to him. “What are you doing now?”

“Oh, nothing much.”

“Hey, weird idea. But did you ever wanna come with us to space?”

“Well, you’re a pretty tightly knit family. I wouldn’t want to interfere.” Before Lars can cut in, Steven quickly goes on. “Besides! I can visit whenever, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s the journey! I dunno, I guess space just has a pretty good record at helping me.”

“That’s okay. I mean. I don’t know if it would do that for me.” He rubs the back of his neck nervously, the words slipping out before he can stop them. “I guess I really like car rides.”

“You been doing a lot of those then?”

“Kindof.” Not really, he thought. From home to Beach City to LH and back.

Rhodonite walks up to Lars excitedly, bubbeling about Lars’ old pastry shop as she pulls him along. Steven waves them goodbye, saying something about needing to be somewhere at LH. The conversation feels blurry to him by the time he’s in his car.

He adjusts the rear view mirror, seeing his reflection. He looks tired, and without the large smile, sad. Lost. He yanks the mirror back into place, trying to forget his reflection as he drives back home.


	2. Chapter 2

  


He wakes up too late. Too late for what? He doesn’t know.

He groans as he rolls over, the sun cutting through the blinds and into his face, making him blink. It’s morning, and he feels he barely slept at all.

On his nightstand are five empty mugs of herbal tea, the teabags still in the mugs or leaking onto the wood surface. His cookie cat clock ticks evenly, cat eyes darting from left to right in rythmn.

He blinks slowly. Right, Peridot wanted to invite him to the barn today, which had gradually become her electrical workshop. Though, she had to cancel yesterday. Not that she wanted to, but some of the protective wiring malfunctioned and until it’s fixed, it’s just not safe for humans inside. Not to mention she’s preparing to hold her first own class coming monday, and everything had to be prepared until then.

So she called it off, rightfully. Big deal. Steven rolls over again so he can face the darker wall of his room. He can’t quite explain to himself why he stressed over it so much last night, but his thoughts kept turning and diving head-first into deeply kept fears until he felt restless and agitated. 

He has no idea when he finally did fall asleep, and maybe it’s better for his nerves not to know at this point. It must have been late.

He slowly sits up, forcing every muscle to move and hoist him upwards. The sun continued her friendly blink through the windows, but he turned his face away from the piercing light and looked around his room.

One of the mugs must’ve fallen down, because it lays on the floor, some old tea still gleaming on the floor. A headache is beginning to feed it’s way into his head, old wrappers, schedules, pizza boxes, trash, worn, wrinkled clothes and, distantly, some splinters and a few glass glitters still left on the floor. It’s a mess. He’s a mess.

He buries his face in his hands. The scent of old clothes, fresh wood planks and rotting teabags fills the room. The waves continue to relentlessly crash onto the beach, distantly audible through a slightly loose window. Through tired eyes, he can see the dust on the windowblinds, or the swirls of it in the air as the sun passes them on her way inside.

He looks forward. He could get up, or stay in bed. What is he going to do once he gets up? The thought of cleaning up made his chest heavy. Nobody would be in the kitchen waiting for him, because today is a weekday. It’ll be as empty and cold as his room. At least here in bed it’s warm. 

If he doesn’t get up, he’ll stay in this room. This place. This mess. He’ll sit there behind the blinds, watching the beach fill up with gems and humans, and maybe eventually hear the gems come home. He’ll sit there and listen to them pass the kitchen and go into their rooms, and then he can go sleep again, and repeat everything tomorrow. He doesn’t want to repeat this tomorrow.

He breathes out heavily, but holds onto the thought, the one want, the one desire that he can still form and hold onto. He doesn’t want to repeat this tomorrow. He doesn’t want a repeat of any of this. He just wants to move on. 

But if he stays in bed, this will repeat tomorrow. This exact numb, sinking feeling, the dirty and dark room, the feeling of helpless exhaustness. He runs a hand through his heavy, greased black locks. If he doesn’t get up, this will repeat forever. This will repeat until he dies here, in this room, in the middle of this mess.

He doesn’t want to die here, in the same place. If there’s one thing he’d had, it was always a hope for some distant perfect future where everything would just figure itself out. The thought that this is the future and it would stay the future felt… awful. Wrong.

He swings his legs over the side of his bed with little enthusiasm, heavy and exhausted even though he just got up. 

He forces himself upwards with the thought that surely his body would disobey him or he’d fall over, but he didn’t. 

If he didn’t, he’d eventually just die in here without ever having changed. He doesn’t want to open the blinds, but he opens them anyway. The sun floods into his room, now no longer held back by the artificial cover.

He opens the window. 

The light warms his face, and he closes his eyes to see the reddish pink behind them. The waves crash. The seagulls call out to their kind and the wind draws glittering patterns on the surface of the ocean. The strong scent of the sea fills his senses, salt and fish and seaweed and dust and humidity. 

It’s all right here. One window away, these new senses, what felt like a step forward, into the light. He did this. He got up, and opened the window himself. He looks out, and the world looks back.

His eyes fix themselves on the horizon, where the endless masses of water meets the sky. He blinks against the sun, eyes skimming the view. He wishes he could be somewhere else. That he wouldn’t have to move his legs and find the strength within so that he could experience new things, so that these new senses could chase away the dreaded feeling of his lonely room.

A deep sense of restlessness settles in his chest. He has to go. He doesn’t know where, but somewhere. If he doesn’t, everything will stay the same, and he’s beginning to feel that that’s worse than anything that the outside world could throw at him. 

He makes his way down to the empty kitchen, but it only satisfies the feeling for a brief moment. But where else would he go? Little Homeworld? The barn? Jasper? 

Not far enough.

He steps to the counter, making himself his morning shake out of habit. As if, if he were far away enough from this place, he could forget everything. Forget and start to live. Start to move on.

Space is the furthest he can go, but something tells him he’ll just fall into the same habits if he travels with the Off-Colors. Space is the same everywhere, large and cold and empty. He could travel earth.

For a moment, he truly considers the thought. He could take his car, throw a bunch of stuff in he’d need and drive across the country to be anywhere else. See new cities, landmarks maybe, meet people, or just sit alone in his car during long drives or in appartments or hotel rooms without having to see anyone. He could start anew, introduce himself to people as Not A Mess, or maybe find someone who really wants to stick around without knowing about the whole diamond thing or being forced to.

What would the gems think, though? Would they miss him? Surely. They’ve got to. At least they would. Maybe Connie could finally focus on her studies properly, and LH would stop having to tolerate him on every major meeting or run important decisions by him, because it would be rude not to. But if he’s far away, tending to other business, they wouldn’t have to do that anymore.

He looks around the empty kitchen. It sounds like both a bad and good idea, just get up and run. He’d tell them, of course. And maybe they’ll be smart and talk him out of it. Or maybe…

Maybe he’d just leave. Maybe he’d just leave everything behind and forget everything, let the memories fade into the white noise of the engine of his car and get lost in the endless passing of the landscape.

The idea feels dumb, but why not? What does he have to do here that nobody else can do, that’s so important they couldn’t live without it?

He stares out from the empty kitchen to the beach. Nobody is here to stop him. If it were that bad for him to leave, someone would be here to stop him, but they’re not. What’s the difference between sulking here and sulking somewhere else?

Maybe it’s not the worst idea he’s had. Impulsive, sure, but what does he have left?

The new idea, the concept filled his chest with some much missed excitement, only securing it more. Something new. Something other than this. 

\---

“Hey, Connie.”

_ “Hey Steven! You’re calling just in time for my study break.” _

He doesn’t know why Connie needs to know first. Maybe he just really needs to forget the hope that she’d beg him to stay. Which is unfair. Of course she’d let him go if that’s good for him. Of course she’d miss him, well, maybe. Why does he need everyone to miss him that badly?

“That’s good. Listen, Connie…” The uncertainty in his voice is painfully obvious. How does he even start?

_ “Steven? Is everything okay?” _

“Yeah! Yeah, everything’s… Um,” he looks around his messy room, sprawled out in the middle of his bed, the wind blowing a scrapped schedule across the room, “great. I just had an idea is all.”

_ “An idea…?” _

“I’m… leaving Beach City.”

_ “What? Where are you going?” _

He tries to sound casual. “Dunno. Somewhere else. Earth, I guess.”

_ “What do you mean, ‘Earth’?!” _

“Like a roadtrip, geez! I’ll be fine. I just think it might… make things better?”

The phone goes quiet for a moment.

_ “Are you sure?” _

“Yeah! I mean, kindof? It’s better than… I don’t know. It’s better than just sitting here. I want to get out. Somewhere. I don’t know.”

_ “No, I get it.” _

“Really?”

_ “Yeah, you wanna be more self-sustained, a lot of teens have that, especially around your age. You wanna leave the nest, you know?” _

“So it’s like… human?” A bit of relief settled in his chest. So it’s a human desire. There’s still some of that left in him.

_ “Oh yeah, really human. You have no idea how many teens insist they’ll move out once they’re 18 and never look back. I mean, finances tend to get in the way of that, but that’s when people start moving out.” _

“Even with 17?”

_ “Weeelll, 17 is a bit early, I guess? But it’s not like you can’t take care of yourself. Besides, there’s lion, warp pads, your dad’s rich… and you’re a superpowered gem, so if you really think it would help you feel better, you can do it.” _

The part of him that wanted to hear her hold him back at all costs slips his mind, replaced by something glowing. She thinks he can do it, and her encouragement and affirmation makes him relax. So it was normal, and okay, and maybe even a good idea, and not just some irrational fantasy that he came up with.

“Thanks, that… means a lot.”

_ “Aw, of course! Have you told the gems yet?” _

“Uhh, not yet. I kindof wanted to hear what you had to say about it, to be honest.”

_ “Well, I think you can do it. You can always come back home when you need to, just like, don’t run off without a word.” _

“Of course not!”

_ “Then you’ll do fine.” _

“...What if I don’t want them to know where I am, though? I mean! I’d tell them I’m leaving, yeah. But what exact place I’m in?”

_ “You don’t have to tell them, that’s okay. It sounds like you need some distance. And independence.” _

He gulps, his voice quieter. “...What if I don’t come back?”

_ “What… do you mean?” _

“What if I don’t want to go back?”

She pauses for a moment. He can feel the vulnerability in the air, the way she forces her voice to sound more sure than she is.  _ “Then… you don’t have to. That’s your choice to make.” _

“But it’ll hurt them! They’ll think they did something wrong.”

_ “...So you’re afraid you’ll like being away from everyone too much?” _

“No, I just…” He breathes out. He is, but at the same time he doesn’t want Connie to think he’s running away from her, or doesn’t want to see her anymore.

So he puts on a smile and forgets what he wanted to know as he lies. “Maybe I’ll just settle down somewhere else. Everyone could still visit.” Is it really a lie when he just isn’t sure if that’s how it will end or not? He doesn’t now, but maybe he’ll want everyone to visit later.

_ “Yeah… Well, it’s okay to want a life of your own. I guess it’s kindof in the family?” _

“What do you mean?”

_ “I mean, your dad, your mom…” _

Oh. 

“Oh.”

_ “Yeah.” _

They both go quiet. 

_ “You should probably tell the gems soon. I’m sure they’ll understand if you explain.” _

“Okay.”

They both go quiet again, and Steven snaps out of his trance to fall back into habit. A smile makes it’s way onto his face, pulling the corners of his mouth up in a common lie.

“So how have your studies been going?”

_ “It’s been okay… I can’t get through this one topic on physics! Well, I _ can,  _ but it’s taking me ages. I thought it would go faster, so now I’m kindof stuck. My research into democracy turned up something interesting, though.” _

His gaze wandered out the window and to the ocean, trying to stay focused. He closed his eyes, tired, hearing her talk about all the things that made her happy, painfully reminding him that he was sitting alone in his room doing nothing. 

She kept going, something about effects of democratic systems on populations out of non-democratic systems, but he wasn’t hearing much of it. He should. It’s polite to listen. She listened to him about his roadtrip idea, so why couldn’t he just focus on her for a bit?

He mhms along. He was much more interested in her opinions about those things and  _ why _ she felt like she was stuck, or why she presumed a certain topic should be done in shorter time; Not whether the effects were statistically proven enough to base other studies off of. Maybe that’s selfish of him. It’s strange. He doesn’t have difficulty focusing on Connie, like, ever.

_ “...Plus, my mom said it’s more important to find what I like to do and will leave an impression, instead of just the latter.” _

His brain zooms back in, catching the uncertainty in her voice, the bit of embaressment, like she’s telling him something she should know herself. 

“Well, she has a point, I think. I don’t know much about it, but only what you really love doing is going to leave an impact that leaves you proud, you know?”

He knows how important it is for her to leave an impact. An imprint, a reminder that she existed, to have a place in history that’s all hers. She’s more than capable of that.

_ “I guess so. Science is more interesting, but democratics and all would leave more of an impact, I feel, you know?” _

“Yeah, but if you don’t like doing it, you might not leave the impact you wanted. Maybe it’ll be important to other people, but it might not be to you.”

She considers for a moment before sighing. _ “Yeah… you’re right, as usual.” _

He gives a half-hearted “Hah.” at the half-joke, not knowing what else to say.

She clears her throat. “Anyway, my mom called me over for dinner a bit ago. Talk to you later?”

“Sure! Thanks for helping me again”

_ “Of course. Tell me how the gems react when you can?” _

“Will do! Bye.”

_ “Talk to you later! Bye!” _

The phone goes quiet. Steven tosses it aside on his bed. Oh boy. The gems.

He was always one to push problems into the future, to run from them and avoid them, and to his pain, much like his mother did. Except when other gems were at stake, other people, something in him found the energy to force him to confront what he’s so terrified of.

His eyes fling open at the thought. Much like his mother did, right? She also found that strength in her only when other lives were at stake. Hrm. He doesn’t like that thought.

He pushes it down, shaking his head to get rid of it. If there’s one thing he still knows to avoid, then it’s thinking about his mother.

Maybe he could call Connie later and tell her he changed his mind. Surely she’ll understand. Except he knows he doesn’t have any better ideas, and he’ll eventually end up where he is now again.

Maybe she’s right, and a roadtrip is exactly what he needs. To start anew, start fresh, get a deep breath of foreign air and become a new, better him. Maybe then facing his family will be easier.

He doesn’t have any other options at this point, really.

\---

And despite everything, he goes to his dad first.

The summer heat swivels on the horizon. The van is open, letting in a soft breeze. Both the Universes are sweated through but unwilling to give up their comfortable spots in the van. 

“A roadtrip, huh?” His dad plucks his guitar a bit, the slightly higher note telling Steven that his dad is at least a bit excited at the idea. It always felt nice, the guitar plucking. 

Steven must’ve told him when he was younger, but the gems more unpredictable nature and reactions made Steven a little anxious, back when he first moved in. His father plucking the low strings of his guitar always told him his dads mood, however, calming him down with something steadfast when he needed it. If only Greg had known then to pay attention to a sign like that more.

“Yeah. I mean, uh, you kindof did one when you were younger, right?”

His father lets out a small laugh, but he’s stopped hiding the bit of pain behind it nowadays. “You could say that. But it was more of a forced move that I grew to love a bit later.”

His father leans back a bit, plucking the strings, the low bass vibrating along. “I dreamed of the open road when I was home, and when I finally got out, it was a lot harder than I thought. Though, I got back on track pretty quickly, there was still that initial shock, you know? I wasn’t used to it.”

“But you always wanted it, right?”

“I did. And in the end I’m glad I did, even with all the setbacks and lessons I had to learn.”

“Do you think… it’ll help me?”

His dad sighs. “Only you know that, shtu-ball.”

Does he? “What if I don’t know?”

He shrugs. “Then nobody does. But you can still try.”

“I just…” Steven sighs to get some of the stress out of his voice. “I don’t know how the gems will react, you know?”

“The gems? Is that what you’re worried about?” Greg looks over to Steven, but his son doesn’t meet his gaze. Greg tries his best to sound encouraging at seeing his sons’ embaressment. “I’m sure the gems will understand.”

“You sure?”

“Of course. They love you, Steven. If this is what you need, then they’ll do their best for you.”

He stares at the wall of the van, the heat continuing to lay heavy in the air. Well, now he’s run out of that excuse. Guess the gems are next.

“I just don’t know how they’ll react.”

Greg plucks another bass. “Only one way to find out. They’ll get it, I’m sure.”

“Probably.” He murmurs, his gaze wandering outside the van. His dad had been so happy to talk to him again after their little attempt at their own roadtrip, and Steven is eternally glad his dad never mentioned it. 

A distance stretched between them, reaching further when Steven remembered why his dad plucks the guitar while he talks, and the last time they were in this van, and finds that there’s yet another reason to leave right in front of him.

\---

  
  


Amethyst exchanges a glance with Pearl. “A roadtrip, huh?” She shrugs it off with ease. “Sounds fun, man! Gotta use that car Greg bought ya, right?” She gives a small laugh, hitting him in the shoulder just a bit too hard with a laugh just a bit too loud.

He rubs his shoulder without being in pain, voice breathless like from the hit to mask the nervousness. “Oh. Yeah! I guess so.”

Steven looks over the three faces, something in his chest setteling. Hah, right. Why was he so worried about this anyway? It’s selfish of him to want them to be breaking down over something like this. They’re thousands of years old. He’s just the bat of an eye in their lives. At least Connie sounded unsure.

“So, um, I thought my dad could move in with you guys, then?” He quickly goes on, calming worries they hadn’t voiced yet. “I already talked to him about it, don’t worry! He agreed, and he wants to get to know you guys better, and gems in general!”

Pearl looked up from her phone, giving him a smile. “Of course. Your room will be empty, after all.” She looks back down, and Steven supresses a sigh.

He looks over to Garnet. She gives him a smile and a thumbs up. “You’ll do great, I’m sure.”

He forces a smile. “Right… yeah! Of course. Thanks for the, encouragement, guys.”

He watches the three of them walk off to the warp pad. Pearl talks without looking back at him. “Don’t forget to clear your room before you go. Else we’ll have to put your stuff in Greg’s garage, hah! Right, Garnet?”   


His smile fades once they’re gone. He stands there, like hit with a sword through the chest. He gulps. His face twists into a frown, into anger, frustration, some kind of pain. His vision blurrs as he stares at the blue light of the warp pad. 

He takes a deep breath. 

He was right. He should leave. Maybe he already wore out his welcome long ago without noticing. 

Maybe he just got too attached, as usual.

\---

Connie’s voice grew stern even over the phone.  _ “You  _ still _ need therapy. You know that, right?” _

“I’ll be fine! I’m taking a roadtrip to feel better, remember?”

_ “That doesn’t mean you can skip therapy!” _

“I said I’ll be fine.”

_ “And I said I’m not letting you skip it.” _

He gave an annoyed sigh, a frustration coming up that he rarely feels. “Well, last  _ I _ remember, that’s  _ my _ choice to make, and not yours.”

There’s silence on the other side of the phone, and he knows he’s mere moments away from one of Connie’s longer scoldings on the topic, so he cuts in before she can answer.

“You know what? Peri’s calling me right now, I’ll have to call you back later.”   


_ “What? Wait, no she’s no-” _

The phone gave a defeated, dull beep, ending the conversation.

The hairs on his neck bristled. Why can’t she just leave him be when he doesn’t want to talk about it? 

He knows why. She doesn’t want a repeat of his horrible meltdown on the beach. 

Well, he doesn’t want a repeat of it either. 

\---

Three neat little gifts sit, wrapped with elegant bows and stickers. The last three left.

Lapis, Bismuth and Peridot, as much as he hated to admit it, gave him at least the kind of reaction he expected, the one he wanted. Of course he didn’t want them to be upset, but they seemed to care. Made him reconsider staying, or at least gave him the feeling that he had to make this count. 

Althought, it did remind him why he can take the breathing room. Bismuth freaked out, Lapis and Peridot were crying, and the horrible guilt in his chest continues to sit on him like it never left.

Even Jasper came to check up on him despite… their past. Well, in her own way. At least he’ll be following Amethyst’s advice and taking some time away from her.

The gems, well. Maybe they just had enough of him, but they deserve some gifts, as well. He can’t just leave them with nothing.

So he takes a deep breath, puts on a smile, and goes.

-

He slumps back onto the couch, biting his lip, biting back the tears again. Why is he so weak? So fragile? He told everyone he could do this, and they’re all handeling it worlds better than he is. He feels a bitter taste in his mouth. Maybe it really is time to go, even if that hurts.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow is the day he leaves, leaving everything and everyone behind. Leaving into the unknown.

He’s scared of a human world he could know better, but after everything, he’s only all the more sure he needs to adapt to it if he wants to find his place at all.

Or maybe he’ll find out he doesn’t fit in there either. Or maybe he can find his own, quiet little corner to live in. Or, despite all of his fears, he’ll learn to be human and be able to finally live his life like a real person instead of a figurehead.

Maybe it’ll fix things. In fact, he hopes it will. Once he’s away, he can work on his habits, make new ones, and maybe the hurdles he has to face will be easier. It was that way for his parents, after all. Why shouldn’t it be for him? They’re a family of people who just couldn’t start out where they belonged to in the end.

He gulps down the knot in his throat. He’ll just have to live with it. But things will be better, right? Everything has to be better than tripping on his worst memories at every turn. Everything will be better than feeling trapped in this place, confronted with it every single day.

He just wants to start again as someone else to forget all of his old mistakes and live a better life. Is that too much to ask?

It’ll be better, he thinks, closing his eyes, the last of his tears sinking back into his mind. It has to be.

\---

The morning welcomed the day warmingly, promising an even warmer day ahead. Summer seems desperate to squeeze in a last few hot days despite September being well through the door.

He has everything he needs, for the most part. Most importantly he has the neccessary legal papers and his own credit card, loaded with enough money to last him a good while. He doesn’t plan on spending much, anyway.

He already spent most of his time saying goodbye to everyone in town yesterday. It felt like the same routine after a while, all forced smiles and sad looks. But it was done with. He still can’t believe he’s actually leaving.

He throws the bag over his shoulder, stepping outside of the house into the still-pleasant breeze. His car waits for him on the beach, and somewhat to his surprise, the gems do too. 

He’s about to jump off the railing, but then stops himself and walks the stairs. He doesn’t plan on running around with his powers on open display, so now is a good time to stop using them out of habit constantly.

The gems look up expectantly, and he spots his dad and Connie on the beach as well.

He opens the door to the back seat, tossing the bag inside. “Connie! I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Yeah, I decided to take a break to see you off.”

Their eyes met, unsureness caught between them since their last phonecall. He puts on a smile, again. “That’s really… I mean, I appreciate it.”

She nods, looking away shyly for a moment before opening her arms to welcome him into a hug. He feels more of a genuine but sad smile tug at the corners of his mouth, emotions rising up to the surface.

He wraps his arms around her tightly, and immedietly feels her squeeze in return, enough that he thinks she might never let him go again. Okay, so maybe she  _ will _ miss him, and he squeezes back enough to give her the same impression, but careful not to overuse his strength. 

He buries his face in her shoulder, closing his eyes, eternally glad for the closeness. He feels like they were standing there for minutes. Or maybe just a few seconds. He can’t tell.

Surprisingly to him, he lets go first, feeling another lump in his throat that he has to gulp down. Connie always pulls away from everything first. She  _ knows _ he would just let a hug or any other form of physical affection go on forever if he could, but today he feels he can’t stand there till midday.

“Thanks.” He says quietly, the word coming out almost a whisper. She’s smiling, and he can see how her eyes are just as filled with water as his. He forces his attention to the gems out of fear that looking at her like that for a moment more will make him turn back completely.

Standing in a moment of emotional affirmation, feeling missed, feeling needed, he looks at the gems kinder than he did the past week or so for their lack of reactions. He notices Amethysts slightly too wide smile, Garnet’s pressed together lips, Pearl’s hands clutched together tightly.

He looks at them a bit quizzically. That’s not how they’ve been about this at all. Or maybe they  _ are _ a bit nervous after all. Oh well. It’s not like he’s just leaving his family maybe-forever. He pushes the thought down, giving them a smile as he heads to his dad. 

Greg gives him an encouraging pat on the back. “Don’t forget you can always come back here. Nothing much to run from here, right?”

Steven forces another smile, trying to follow with a small laugh. “Right.”

His dad sighs. “Well, looks like your adventures await, shtu-ball.”

He nods, giving his dad a last smile before heading to his car. He gives another glance to the gems, suddenly unable to stop the bit of dissapointment from leaking into his expression. He forces himself to turn, grabs the car handle. His heart thuds. Is this really it? Are the gems going to miss him that little? Pearl has her hand up, ready to wave. They really don’t want to tell him anything else.

Pain twists in his chest, building up until he can’t take it anymore and he turns around, voice louder than he wanted it to be. 

“What’s _ wrong _ with you guys?! I’m leaving maybe-forever and you look like you barely even care!”

Amethyst looks over to Garnet, her eyes suddenly watering. “I can’t take this anymore!” She yells with frustration. “I’m never gonna delete any of your saves, man! I’m gonna keep those games forever!”

Garnet and Pearl exchange a similar look as their masks crumble to the ground, tears gathering in their eyes, faces twisting.

Pearl has the ukulele he gave her already out, clutching it tightly. “And I’ll never play anything else…”

“What?!” His confusion is only getting worse. “Then why did you have to act like you didn’t care?!”

Garnet looks down miserably. “We were trying to be strong for you…”

Frustration seeps into his voice, remembering all the hurt he’s felt for the past week, for every ignored feeling and left-out goodbye. “Strong for me?!”

“Steven.” Garnet pulls herself together visibly, getting rid of her visor. “I couldn’t help looking into your future… I saw a future where our grief would hold you back.”

“What?! But then- why didn’t you just- tell me that!” Anger burns up in his chest, setting his bottled emotions ablaze. “Why can’t you just talk to me! Why do you have to hide everything! You know that this is exactly why I’m leaving, right?!”

He regrets the last words right after they’re already out of his mouth as the gems stare back at him with shock.

He doesn’t want to see them break down. Doesn’t want to stick around to fix this mess, doesn’t want to fall back into his old habits. He’s tired, tired and angry and reminded exactly of why he wants to leave so badly.

He gets into the car, slamming the door shut. Connie calls after him. “Steven! It’s dangerous to drive when you’re angry-!”   


Her voice fades into the distance. Guilt kicks against his chest, begging him to turn back and fix everything, but he wasn’t going to give into it again. He makes it through town quickly, over the speed limit just a bit here and there. He has his goals set elsewhere, though.

As soon as the car rolls out onto the highway, he looks around. No cars in sight. 

Don’t drive when you’re angry, Steven. It’s dangerous. 

He looks straight ahead, and hammers the gas all the way to the back.

He lets the back of his head hit the seat. Adrenaline rushes through his veins, eyes set straight onto the road. The car was increasingly difficult to keep on the road at speeds he hadn’t gone before, but it was worth it. He felt it was worth it.

He turns on the radio to play one of his CDs, music roaring alongside the engine. His chest feels light, he feels weightless, a little dizzy. He doesn’t have to listen to anyone. Who are they to know what’s good for him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure you know how much you probably never get the gas all the way to the back, lol. I drive my car without ever getting the gas pedal to the back, and I do go on highways frequently. Just take my time speeding up.
> 
> So yeah, don't pull a Steven, folks. Drive safely! Don't go over the limits! Don't bite off more than you can chew!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> This work updates whenever a new part is out :) By not stressing myself, I'm trying to make sure to give the best quality possible.
> 
> Tumblr post for better art view: https://allet-art.tumblr.com/post/625613033906044928/wherever-you-go-youll-be
> 
> Don't forget to Kudos!  
> Comments of all kinds are warmly appreciated!


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